If You'd Cry of Happiness
by FromOutside
Summary: More than twenty years later, he'd tell Will Zimmerman that he's been in love countless times but he recognizes the feeling as it is: an irrational, self-destructive impulse disguised as joy.


**A/N: **Errm, yes. This is something I wrote last autumn. I hadn't written much for a while, and this may not by my best text by any criteria (except that it is finished :D). But for once had a real reason for laziness: I had just moved in a new apartment, done some school work and began in a somewhat real job. Turns out that working actually consumes some time...

Until recently, mid section of the fic had some serious problems. One day I woke up knowing how to fix most of them. So I did.

The situation is slightly AU (not consistent what Helen said in _The Five_) but, hey, it's ff!

Betaed by **chartreuseian**. Thank you for your hard work, it made the story flow so much better!

Coverby** Yamiinsane**. Thank you so much! ^^

**Word count: **~2500

**Warnings: **Nah

**Spoilers:** -

**Disclaimer:** Haha, yeah, right... Seriously, I hardly own the computer I am writing this with.

* * *

If you'd Cry of Happiness

_More than twenty years later, he'd tell Will Zimmerman he's been in love countless times but he recognizes the feeling as it is: an irrational, self-destructive impulse disguised as joy._

Being late wasn't one of Nikola's bad habits, numerous as they were. Helen couldn't but worry. Common sense pointed out that Nikola was safe but the vague anxiety she was feeling refused to fade.

Helen blamed pregnancy hormones. Over the course so far she had suffered mood swings, joint pains and low hemoglobin. At the start of her pregnancy, she had felt exhausted all the time, more exhausted than she had felt all her years. That had been the main reason she had left the Sanctuary and her job as early as she had. She had moved into a small, peaceful village, one she had decided to remain in until she gave birth to her daughter.

_If I just had picked some place warmer_, Helen thought. She stared to the rapidly darkening woods and wriggled her toes. The winds of fall were cold, or maybe it was an early winter wind already. The sky was cloudy and heavy blobs of wet snow fell from it.

When Helen looked to the clock again, the second hand had crawled nearly four full laps. She felt a small sting of worry in her heart. Or was it just one of the numerous muscle spasms she had suffered during the pregnancy?

The pain ceased soon enough but Helen still felt miserable. The roof of a bus stop protected her from the rain, and three plywood walls gave her some protection from the wind, but all her ailments seemed to be getting worse because of the weather. Even the baby was restless, kicking and moving like she knew how cold the weather was.

When Helen saw a set of headlights getting closer, she felt more relieved than she wanted to admit to herself. She wasn't really looking forward to a boring evening with a stack of VHS tapes, Bold and the Beautiful on them all, but the house was warm and Nikola's comments often made her laugh. Yet, Helen hoped that the old TV would be able to pick one single channel.

As the car drove closer, she sighed with disappointment. The car belonged to the neighbors, a married couple in their sixties. Mr. and Mrs. Grey were pleasant people, always polite to Helen and Nikola. Helen thought, however, that neither of them liked Nikola too much. Keeping in mind how he acted these days, Helen understood how Grey's felt. Had Nikola been a well-liked man in a village like this, it would have been a small miracle.

The car drove to the bus stop and Mrs. Gray opened the window. Helen managed a polite smile.

"Good evening," she greeted Mrs. Gray, who smacked her mouth in disapproval.

"Dear child," she said, greatly irritating Helen. "What are you doing here, at this hour? There's no buses running anymore. A pregnant girl like you should be getting rest at her home. Tell your boyfriend that I command him to drive you around!"

Nikola wouldn't care much of Mrs. Gray's orders, Helen thought. For a moment, she considered defending her friend who the villagers had immediately - and incorrectly - assumed as her boyfriend and the father of her child. But past half hour, spent at the bus stop, waiting, didn't make her feel like defending anyone.

"Niko was supposed to pick me from here almost half an hour ago. He is late."

"Half an hour, in this weather, no wonder you look as if you were frozen to the marrow. Get in the car, we'll take you home," Mrs. Gray said, and Helen decided to obey. 'Niko' (using the name of Nikola Tesla sometimes drew unwanted attention) would have to take care of himself. The worry she had felt earlier returned, or maybe it was the same muscle spasm.

* * *

Sleet was hitting the windshield of a new Lamborghini. Wipers traveled from side to side but the visibility remained near zero. Nikola didn't care that, like he didn't care about dangerous drifts the slush was forming on a way too curvy road. Tires were already slipping but Nikola hit the accelerator.

He knew that he was supposed to pick Helen from the bus stop in five minutes. He knew he wasn't going to. He wasn't going to take her to a pathetic, boring house in a boring, pathetic village. Nor he would watch the pathetic, boring soap opera for a second longer. He hated the village, he hated the house and, most of all, he hated the soap.

And even if he picked Helen, she'd most like throw him out, for what happened just a few moments ago.

Nikola grabbed a bottle he had lying in the passenger seat, next to a pistol, and took a long sip of tequila. Not that the tequila had ant more effect on him than the wine did (_absolutely the worst aspect of vampirism_, Nikola thought bitterly), but the burn of cheap tequila seemed to fit best for the occasion. It wasn't that he had a lot to choose from at the moment, anyway.

The road took a tight curve to the left. At the right side of it was a high cliff, toward which the car skated on the slippery asphalt. Nikola threw the bottle to the shotgun seat, not bothering to close the cap. He grinned, closed his eyes and released his grip of the steering wheel. He felt how the right front tire fell off the road, and how the car turned twice over the roof before colliding with the cliff. The Lamborghini crushed as easily as an aluminum beer can. Fragmented safety glass poured into the car and on Nikola.

_Nikola is sitting in the worst pub of the village. Unfortunately the worst pub inthe village is also the only one, and therefore the only place he is currently able to purchase any kind of wine (although bad) or have any company (although bad) during the day._

_The clients are at least as miserable as the pub is. The customers: mainly old village drunks who detest Nikola deeply. For the name of intellectual honesty Nikola acknowledges that his attitude towards them might have a thing or two to do with it, but that doesn't stop him hating them back._

_He lets his forehead rest on the table. This is one of the rare times he wonders how stupid a genius can be._

_It wasn't a bad idea to keep an eye Helen's life and work. True, Druitt has often mocked him for that but a long time ago, he has decided he is about twenty stories above any comment Jack the Ripper could possibly make about the topic._

_It was foolish, though, to contact Helen as soon as her pregnancy was revealed. He blames his curiosity, his desire for knowledge, and he somewhat blames his opportunistic ways. Most of all he blames his jealousy. Over a hundred years of friendship and Helen let some undoubtedly dull-minded idiot have his way with her!_

_Nikola wrinkles his nose in disgust. He doesn't want to think the father of Helen's child, and he definitely doesn't want to think of Helen with him - whoever the guy is, Helen refuses to tell. He thinks anyway, because he can't not to think._

_He manages to keep his vampirism hidden only by biting his teeth together and squeezing his hands to fists. He knows he'd be a fool if he lets his vampiric traits show in public. He'd be almost as much of a fool as he was when he contacted Helen._

_Nikola reminds himself that his intentions were good, at least in relative terms. He offered himself as Head of the Sanctuary for his friend's maternity leave but Helen declined sharply. He doesn't blame her for this; he knows himself. Instead he blames Helen for asking him to join her in the miserable little village. He blames himself for agreeing to it._

_He is such a stupid, stupid man. He can already feel the thought hurting his ego but, well, sometimes it's just good to think one's actions, find the mistakes, and have no excuses for either._

_Rest of the evening is going to go as usual, Nikola thinks. He will continue his self-pity marathon until the moment he'll have to pick Helen from the bus stop. It is the routine of theirs; she goes to the old people's home to keep those of her own age company, and probably to help out, too, while he spends the day in the pub._

_But, he is about to discover, the routine gets broken by a tall, scar-faced man and his threatening voice._

_"Nikola!" the voice booms and he lifts his head off the table to meet John Druitt's gaze._

_"How did you did you find us?" Nikola asks bluntly._

_"Niko Teslen and Helen Magnus?" Druitt answers menacingly. "How stupid do you think I am?"_

_Nikola snorts, ignoring John's obvious hostility. "Let me rephrase that: why did you search for us?"_

_"What do you think? Not even in my worst dreams did I image you'd end up as Helen's lover! My stomach twists when I as much as think of Helen and your skinny rat-faced self together!" John roars, grabbing Nikola's arm and practically lifting him up. _

_Nikola feels the chance. His eyes glisten black and he picks up a bottle. Bar fights really aren't of his style but, from that point on, there isn't too many ways for the situation to play out._

_John Druitt, however, is not a stupid man. Nikola knows that, at the moment, John doesn't want anything as much as to define the word _pain_ again with him, but he knows that the chosen approach is going to reveal too much of both of them._

_"Let us continue outdoors," John growls, his grip of Nikola's arm still painfully strong. In front of astonished customers, both men vanish into thin air. When they reappear in an empty parking lot, sleet starts to fall from the gray sky._

_Nikola is furious, and oh how good it feels! His claws are elongated, his now sharp teeth bared, his thirst for blood stronger than for months, and he knows he can't stay in the village any longer. _

_Sadly, if he wants to flee without causing too much trouble for Helen, he has to control his own fight or flight response. Or maybe it is fight _and_ flight when it comes to this, he supposes, but the fighting part can't happen. Still intact, still uncorked bottle of tequila is his free hand helps him to speak up. _

_"The child is not mine. We are not lovers, me and Helen." _

_John isn't convinced; Nikola isn't surprised. _

_"Then what the hell are you doing here, together with her?" John asks darkly. "Whose is it?" _

_Nikola can't hide his grin, doesn't even try to. "I don't know. Helen won't tell. Bribery, intimidation, extortion, the next option would be torture, but I don't think it appropriate, considering things. Me, well, I couldn't say no to a beautiful woman when she asked me to join her quest for a family. This is the truth, Jack, believe it or not." _

_"Stop talking of her like that!" _

_Nikola feels his grin widening. John walked right into the trap. "You mean I should call her an old ugly cow?" he asks. "Pregnancy may not have been merciful for her but it is not that bad. Besides, I always liked mature ladies."_

_"Tesla, you ..."_

_He laughs, sharp laughter that dies as quickly as it began. "Did you see the big green house, on the hill? Take me there, I'll take a car from there and shake this place off me."_

_John is still holding his arm, and then two of them are at the house's parking lot. Right next to them is the only sport car of the village, a new wine-red Lamborghini._

_Nikola opens the tequila bottle and takes a long sip. He breaks the driver's side window with his bare hand, then opens the central locking. The cuts heal fast, leaving only thin lines of blood on his skin. For Nikola, starting a car without key is nothing._

_"Joy riding, are we?" John asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and barely suppressed anger. _

_"Please, by all means, take a seat and join me," Tesla replies. His words sound as fake as they are, and he searches under the driver's seat. Grinning again, he pulls out a pistol._

_"Don't point me with that thing," John comments, but opens the passenger door anyway. He takes a comfortable position but is adamant not to let himself relax too much - it isn't wise to relax at such near proximity of a vampire, not when there is unfinished business hanging on the air. Between him and Nikola, there has never been be a time without unfinished business, and likely there will never be._

_Nikola drives off, towards the center of the village. He doesn't even slow at the pub's, but lets go of his grip of the steering wheel._

_"Hold that," he says, passing the wheel to John who takes it, likely because it seems to be the easiest way to keep oneself in one piece. Nikola, in turn, takes the pistol and fires it. The door man, the one who has irritated Nikola greatly during last months, yelps and grabs his calf._

_"I won't be a part of this game," John blurts out and passes the wheel back to Nikola. He doesn't respond but is quite pleased when the passenger seat empties. He gets to speed, way too fast into the way too slippery curve._

Thick black smoke rose under the Lamborghini's crushed hood. Silence above the accident site was broken only by the quiet crackling of the engine, and the air was heavy with the smell of gasoline and oil. Had the sky not been cloudy, fragments of glass and metal would have sparkled in the gentle light coming down from the night sky.

Nikola pushed the door open and tumbled out. He shook glass off his hair and clothes and turned to look at the car. Fine job, he decided, something the local police would think of for a while.

Speaking of which, it was best to change the scenery before the police would find the crash site. The doorman had undoubtedly called the authority and the country police generally didn't react too well to drive-by shootings, not even the most small and harmless ones.

Nikola grinned and begun to walk. Being a vampire had its downs, but when it came to various self-destructive impulses, it certainly had its ups too. He promised himself that when he'd reach the next town, he'd sent a postcard to Helen, just to tell her he was okay and even kind of sorry.


End file.
